


Just Say the Word

by Silverilly



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dominance, F/F, Light Bondage, Office Sex, Teasing, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 12:53:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13236150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverilly/pseuds/Silverilly
Summary: The Administrator has a mission for Miss Pauling, but Pauling might be too tongue-tied to succeed.





	Just Say the Word

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silverstreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverstreams/gifts).



The administrator was a possessive woman. She didn’t release belongings, resolve, or assistants. As such, when she shared something, it was to her own benefit. For instance, if she were to, say, seat another person in her own chair, it might be because the sight pleased her. She might enjoy watching, for example, her young assistant Pauling, if Pauling were tied up and naked in front of her. Whatever her reasons, they always served Helen first.

Pauling, tied up and naked in her boss’s chair, didn’t mind. Thick straps held her tightly, pressing against her wrists, her upper arms, her ankles, thighs, calves. She wasn't stretched quite so much that she couldn’t shift her weight, but her legs were left wide open, inviting Helen to take her whenever she so pleased. She just wished her boss would hurry up and _please_ one of these days—because the moment Helen had finished restraining Pauling, she had turned away. Once, not so long ago, Pauling had been left naked except for a vibrator deep inside, sending her into almost agonizing bliss. Helen had not so much as glanced at her the entire time.

It had been a perfect morning.

This time, Pauling wasn’t sure what was going to happen. She had expected a gag—a common item during encounters like these—but, to her surprise, Helen left her mouth free. At that, Pauling's free lip jutted out in a deep pout. Of course, she didn't necessarily _want_ to be shut up, but... well, it felt so nice when her boss was forceful, owning Pauling’s silence, making her feel completely overpowered. Like this, on the other hand, Pauling could say anything she wanted.

And speaking of...

"Um," said Pauling at last, "should I be... doing something?"

The words hung awkwardly in the air. Pauling had never exactly held the eloquence of her boss. She was skilled with a gun, or perhaps with files, but when it came to talking, she wasn't much of an artist. Usually, that was okay. She didn't need to sound impressive when she was trying to get people like Scout to listen to her; it wasn't as if she typically spent a lot of time around geniuses. But then, that was just because her boss was so busy all the time. Helen... Helen could speak.

Now, however, the administrator was silent, still, perhaps cruel. It was hard to tell, with Helen. Perhaps this was why her words always seemed to hold extra impact; she was very careful in choosing them. Even when Helen turned around at last, she said nothing—at least, not with her lips. It was not, by any means, the first time the woman had seen Pauling naked, but Helen’s scrutinizing eye still made her blush. She seemed to be doing more than looking at Pauling's body; she seemed to see inside the young assistant, past her skin, past her bones, past her soul. When Helen’s mouth opened, Pauling found herself leaning forward slightly to listen.

“What is the current state of the gun mettle ordeal?”

The question startled her, but she recovered quickly. It wasn’t _so_ strange to talk about work in a situation like this—at least, not if you were Pauling. “All of the contracts have been collected and filed,” she replied automatically. _Filed_ in this case meant _incinerated_. “And I coded and categorized all the data from said contracts, including weapons used, successes earned, and, um, fraternization.”

In truth, she’d worked herself nearly into the ground. Often, she wondered if she was doing enough—if Helen was pleased with her. She wondered, embarrassingly, if Helen was _proud_ of her. Pauling wanted only to know that she was doing a good job, but there was no way to be sure with Helen. All she could do was hope.

"I have a mission for you.”

"A... a mission?" Pauling tried lamely. "What kind of mission?"

Helen took another excruciating pause. The thoughts in the woman’s head were unreadable, especially as her gaze continued to rake Pauling's body. Just when Pauling thought she couldn't stand it anymore, Helen leaned in, her lips pressed almost entirely against the younger woman’s ear.

"A mission to please me."

Pauling squirmed at the words—to no avail. The bonds were secure against her limbs, keeping her right where Helen wanted her. "How, um," Pauling tried, "How do you want me to… please you?" It wasn't as though she hadn't done so before. Pauling had become quite knowledgeable about her boss's body—and the knowledge was mutual. From this position, however, Pauling couldn't make any major moves. Maybe Helen just planned to use Pauling's body for her own pleasure? That would be... quite fine.

Helen's brow creased, letting out trace elements of frustration—an intentional move, Pauling knew. She felt a strike of embarrassment rush through her, hating the idea that Helen might be irritated with her, disappointed in her. She considered adding more to her words, but knew whatever she said would only make things worse. Instead, Pauling waited for her boss to speak.

"Honestly." The woman's lips were pursed, the crinkles brought on by too many cigarettes deepening against her cheeks. "I expect you to be smarter than this, Miss Pauling. Do you _really_ need my direction on everything?"

Pauling tried to take a breath, feeling her face flush even harder. She hated disappointing her boss, regardless of how Helen's tone thrilled her. "Um," she said. She wasn't completely sure what to add to that.

"I want you to please me with your mouth, Miss Pauling," said Helen—as if this should have been painfully obvious.

"Oh." Pauling's heart fluttered again. She wasn't exactly a master when it came to oral sex, and she was hardly in a position to reach any part of Helen's body—especially _that_ part. "So are you going to, uh. Sit on me?"

Helen closed her eyes, a vein throbbing at her forehead, her lips twitching at the corners. For a moment, she looked as if she was going to laugh, but Pauling was sure she was just trying to contain her exasperation.

“You misunderstand me, Pauling.” Helen grabbed Pauling's chin, tipping her face roughly upward. Pauling felt her heart skip under her boss's touch. “You’re going to use your _words_.”

Oh.

Miss Pauling frowned. She was supposed to... how, exactly? Was... was Helen asking her to _talk dirty_? Pauling couldn't do that. She didn't have Helen’s composure, her fluency. If she tried to speak like that, it would all come out wrong.

Helen's lips latched around her ear. Pauling gasped, not expecting such a thing from her boss—after all, it wasn't as if she’d done anything yet. Should she... should she say something now? Use her, um, words?

What would happen if she didn’t?

Always a glutton for punishment, Pauling kept her lips sealed, even as Helen's scored her jaw. The woman's teeth came sharp but gentle against Pauling's skin. Helen was here for her, for her, mouth dipping down, across, along Pauling's collarbone. And then her fingers were there, too, claws replacing her lips when necessary, pressing into the divots of Pauling's skin.

Both women were silent. The only thread between them was her boss's touch, her boss's lips, bringing her breath shallower, so that each inhalation heaved her breasts toward Helen's mouth. The older woman pressed a kiss to the curve of one breast, but that was all. Helen's fingers dipped lower, lower, brushing up against Pauling's belly, sending a tickle through the assistant's skin. With both of her hands, she pressed against Pauling's thighs, pushing them down, somehow pulling them even farther apart. Pauling, of course, did nothing to stop her. Helen continued to pepper her with startling kisses, down a tiny line of hair under her belly button. The lips were so close, the breath threatening to press sensation through Pauling's body—threatening, but not quite managing to do so.

The administrator pulled her mouth away, running her fingers along Pauling's thighs.

Pauling, far from talking dirty, refused to make a sound—no matter how much she wanted to whine. She couldn't let her boss know how much she was affected, whether or not she—oh, _God_ , that felt good. _Calm down, Pauling—_ but as Helen’s mouth lavished her breasts, a she couldn’t hold back a gasp. Furious with herself, she tried to steady her breathing, but she knew she was panting now. If only Helen would move her fingers just a bit higher… just a bit more…

Helen was so close now—so achingly close. As her digits skated over the edge of Pauling’s folds, the assistant found herself whimpering. Mentally, she cursed the sound for betraying her weakness—not that the slickness of her folds wasn’t already doing so. Perhaps, if she was lucky, Helen wouldn’t have heard it—

“It certainly _sounds_ like you want it, Miss Pauling.” The administrator’s sardonic voice cut through her hopes before she even had the chance to formulate them. “If the shade of your face is any indication, you’re utterly desperate. So, really, I’m at a loss as to why you can’t follow a _simple instruction_.”

Pauling closed her eyes, unable to meet her boss’s gaze. Yes, she was desperate—each serrated, whiny breath made that obvious to both of them—but Helen’s order was simply _impossible_ to fulfil. Pauling didn’t know _how_ to talk dirty. She knew, just knew, that she’d come off as a complete fool if she tried, her awkward cadence destroying anything she had with Helen. She would, as usual, be nothing more than a disappointment.

“ _Now_ , Miss Pauling.”

She didn't have to. She knew she didn't have to. She could sit here, innocent, demure, stubborn, and Helen wouldn't lay a finger on her.

But that, of course, was the problem.

With a sigh of resignation, Pauling tried to speak.

“I, um…” Pauling’s mind scattered as she tried desperately to come up with the right words. “I want you to, um… touch me.”

God, that sounded stupid. _I want you to touch me?_ Pauling shook her head, exhausted by her own lack of creativity—and specificity. Indeed, Helen’s rumbling question was no surprise: “Touch you _where?_ ”

_Please don’t make me say it._ “On my, um. My… lips.”

“Here?” Helen grazed her fingers across Pauling’s mouth, the tips inching inside, moistening under Pauling’s pout. “Or…”

And there she was. Practiced digits slid against Pauling’s folds, making Pauling instinctively spread her legs even further. After so much teasing, it felt _so_ good when she—but why was she pulling away?! “The second one,” Pauling burst out, hating her breathy, broken voice. “ _Please_.”

Pauling expected chastisement for her foolish words—but the mockery never came. Indeed, Helen drove her fingers against the assistant's folds, sliding easily thanks to Pauling's arousal. They pressed and explored expertly, drawing along Pauling as Helen leaned over her. Here, the administrator could easily see how badly Pauling wanted her. Meanwhile, Helen... well, Helen might as well have been going to a business meeting. It just wasn't fair.

"It's not fair," Pauling found herself saying—much to her own mortification.

Helen paused in her ministrations, making Pauling regret her words even more. She looked sharply up at her protégé, wearing an expression Pauling had never seen before.

"Oh?" Her voice was dark. "What, exactly, is not fair?"

"I'm..." God, how was she supposed to go about this? Every word felt like iron on her tongue. "You're fully clothed!" she burst out at last. "You're dressed, and I'm. Um. Not."

Helen’s gaze held steadily against Pauling's chest—and then, against her eyes. Pauling found herself shrinking back instinctively—well, as much as she could in this position.

"Really." Helen's tone was cold, dry, emotionless. "And what do you expect me to do about that?"

Paralyzed with fear, Pauling's mind swam. Was this a trap? It had to be a trap. She'd said too much, gone too far...

Helen leaned in again, teeth raking Pauling's ear. "Tell me what you want me to do, Miss Pauling."

Pauling's heart thrummed in her chest, so hard that she was certain Helen could see it. There didn't seem to be any way out of saying what she had to say; somehow, she had a feeling that if she kept her mouth shut, she'd be left on this chair for... well, she wasn't sure how long.

She took the plunge, as if jumping from a diving board into an icy pool. "I want you to strip," she blurted out. She said it too quickly; there was no allure in her tone. She wasn't even sure if the words had been understandable, or if instead they'd come out in a slurred, panicked mess. Somehow, she suspected the latter. That, surely, wouldn't do.

Helen was definitely going to leave now.

Suddenly, the audacity of Pauling's own words actually hit her. She hadn’t just said something that sounded incredibly stupid; she'd said something that Helen was sure to kill her for. _Ohgodohgodohgod—_

Pauling flinched as Helen made contact with her face—but then realized that the administrator had only left a kiss on her forehead. And then, there were the magic words: "Good girl."

Helen followed the order.

One bony, intricate finger slid along the jacket of Helen's ensemble, pulling it off her shoulders. There was no playfulness in the action, no apparent seductive charm—but the matter-of-fact manner was sexier than anything Pauling could have conjured in her mind. Helen continued, working from top to bottom, removing it all with ease and only pausing to press butterfly-soft kisses up Pauling's thighs. Pauling watched her boss with a reverence that she hoped looked more respectful than gawpy. Helen was... well, she was beautiful. Every angle of her body was as severe as her gaze, contoured in shadows and secrecy.

Unfortunately, in Pauling’s eagerness, her glasses had slid down her nose, and it was getting harder to actually see anything. "Push my glasses up.” Her words startled her. “Um. Please."

For her part, Helen had paused in her actions. It was, truthfully, vexing—especially as she had just gotten to the part where she was supposed to remove her underwear. For what felt like the millionth time tonight, Pauling felt her heart flip. And then—as if it was nothing—Helen pushed Pauling's glasses up.

Then she pressed into Pauling with a deep kiss, driving her fingers back between Pauling's legs.

Pauling writhed against Helen’s hand, the painstaking work of teasing bringing her arousal already close to its peak. She was so, so lucky to be here, with her boss, feeling—oh, God, she wanted more of that. Her limited movement was given to grinding against Helen’s fingers, trying to soak up all the sensation she could. Helen responded by tugging her hair, bringing a sharp pain to send confused data along her brain as her pleasure continued to mount, closer and closer, right at its peak, ready to—

“No!” Pauling gasped, as it all came to a crashing halt.

Helen’s face betrayed no emotion—except, perhaps, for a glimmer of humour in her eyes. Wordlessly, she knelt, bringing her lips to Pauling’s thighs. It was only when her breasts grazed against Pauling’s knees that she spoke. “Is there a problem?” She pressed a kiss to the smooth crook that lay just beyond Pauling’s thigh—beyond, but not close enough.

“Yes,” Pauling whimpered, her desire clouding even her stubbornness.

“That’s too bad,” said Helen in a tone that suggested it was nothing of the sort. “What do you want, Miss Pauling?”

Her voice caught in her throat.

Helen nuzzled in between Pauling’s legs, breath hot against the young woman’s lips. “What. Do. You. Want?”

“Just…” Her brain was cloudy, an overwhelming mess of emotion, of need, every muscle in her body screaming at her, screaming at whatever it was that was keeping her from getting what she wanted, screaming and screaming and screaming until “just let me fucking _cum!_ ”

The horror of her words was overshadowed by Helen sending her cascading over the edge into a freeing, crashing orgasm.

It was almost blinding, how it took her over. She was everything; she was nothing. She thought she would collapse from the pleasure of receiving what she needed after _so long_ —but Helen was as merciless in giving as she was in withholding. The woman drove herself over and over again against Pauling, extending the orgasm for as long as possible, until it was positively painful. If Pauling’s legs hadn’t been restrained, she would have ended up kicking Helen in the face. As it was, she wriggled and writhed until finally, finally, Helen decided it was over.

And then, Pauling collapsed.

She barely registered Helen removing the bonds from her limbs, feeling too exhausted—and she hadn’t even been the one doing all the work. How was it that one woman could have such an exhausting effect on her? Truly, this was too much.

Except, of course, that it wasn’t.

Helen pulled Pauling into her lap, gently stroking the hair that had come loose from the young woman’s bun. They were quiet for a while as Pauling’s heartbeat slowly returned to its normal pace. In these arms, Pauling was warm. She was safe.

“Good work with the gun mettle mission.” With calm, spindly fingers, Helen pulled her hand through Pauling’s hair. The feeling was so comforting that Pauling almost missed the shock of the words—almost. “I know I can always count on you.”

The words felt better than anything else, than any orgasm Helen could have given her. For once, Pauling felt… worthwhile. She felt like she’d done something to be proud of. As Helen stroked her hair, she found herself sinking into that feeling—the feeling of being needed, of being wanted.

“You’re mine, Miss Pauling,” Helen murmured.

Pauling couldn’t have said it better herself.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this fic! For more information about my writing (including requests!) please visit my Tumblr. My username there is "allyitis" and I love making people happy with my work!


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